


Two Drifters

by trashyeggroll



Category: Captain Marvel (2019)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Quickies, Short Hair Carol Danvers, Space Wives, danbeau, prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 03:35:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19985434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashyeggroll/pseuds/trashyeggroll
Summary: Superhero Carol Danvers tends to do everything at superspeed, but when it comes to the most important things in her life, she knows how to take it slow.





	Two Drifters

**Author's Note:**

> **Tumblr prompt: Carol/Maria, what’s one thing that Carol knows how to do slow?**
> 
> This wasn't even a prompt, it was just an Ask, but I could NOT stop thinking about the concept and then this happened.

Seemingly as a rule, Carol Danvers doesn’t do  _ anything _ slowly.

There are times it seems like pure luck that she and Monica have never choked during their “who can finish dinner fastest” shenanigans. Maria had had quite enough of that in the Air Force, thank you very much. But since returning with powers, Carol’s taken to zipping around their homestead glowing orange-blue, cutting the timeframe for watering their vegetable garden by half. Even before all the superpowers, whether racing Maria to work or sprinting top speed through obstacle courses, Carol liked to  _ go. _ All in all, she’s basically the least procrastinating person Maria’s ever met, but it’s not necessarily a bad trait. In fact, it’s one of the many things Maria Rambeau loves about her partner: the tireless sparks of wit, humor, and determination that make her both Carol Danvers, who likes double chocolate s’mores and afternoons helping Monica build Lego skyscrapers, and Captain Marvel, who rescues real life cities and whole  _ planets _ by just the strength that lives within her.

All that go-getting is all the better, most of the time, given the chaos of Carol’s intergalactic commitments and Monica’s extracurriculars (currently: orchestra, soccer, and Academic Bowl). Speed and efficiency ensure there’s precious minutes left over to be a family, solving puzzles and playing board games on the kitchen table, or a movie together, just the three of them and a giant bowl of popcorn on the couch.

But there is one thing that Carol does slowly, and Maria can’t complain about it (not  _ really). _

The superhero had returned home at lightning speed, an asteroid hurtling to the ground in their front yard, with bits of rock in her hair and soot smudges across her cheek—but whatever explosion or similar calamity had left her in such a state must have been a good one, because Carol had swept into the kitchen for breakfast like a partner-shaped ray of sunshine dressed in yellow, gold, and blue. The subsequent day had flown by, least of all because Carol took Maria for a literal flight over the bayou while Monica was at school, the mechanic nestled safely in the blonde’s strong, warm arms as they hovered near passels of wild hogs and zipped alongside whooping cranes, dipping low enough to see the silhouettes of alligators under the surface. 

And then there’s a soccer practice before dinner, chemistry homework that needs a double check, and their middle schooler is asleep with her alien laptop next to her pillow by ten—but her mothers can’t quite turn in yet. 

While Carol speed-folds laundry, Maria washes the dishes, and the white noise of the faucet and the repetition of scrubbing red sauce from spoons and bowls is somewhat hypnotic; she doesn’t notice music coming from the master bedroom until she turns off the water. It’s muffled, but vaguely familiar, something croony. Maria notices the laundry is nicely stacked on the couch, but Carol is AWOL as she pads across the house to their door, open an inch or so and spilling warm yellow light into the hall. 

“Carol?” she calls, quietly, as she pushes the door open—and then a slow smile forces its way across her face. “Hey there.”

“Hey,” greets the blonde, grinning slyly, as she turns from her spot standing in the middle of the room. She’s got her supersuit on again, but she’s clearly not going anywhere, because the colors are changed to crisp black and white, in the closest approximation to the shape of a tuxedo it can manage. 

And of course she looks amazing anyway, so it takes Maria a few seconds to hear the song again, this time easily identifying the gentle, ethereal melody under Audrey Hepburn’s clear voice:

_ “...dream maker, my heartbreaker, wherever you're goin', I'm goin' that way…” _

“What’s… the occasion?” prompts Maria when coherent thoughts resume, her eyes refocusing on the woman suddenly looking back at her with… Was that nervousness?

“I, um… I had a thought. While we were flying today.”

“A thought, hmm? Sounds dangerous.”

She’s almost on the edge of worried when it takes Carol a beat to realize she’s joking, and so she closes the distance to pull the blonde into her arms. It seems to wake up the superhero, and she offers a weak chuckle before pointedly reaching up and draping her arms around Maria’s shoulders like a teen at prom, shuffling her feet side to side to emphasize. 

“Really?”

“Just go with it,” whispers Carol, letting out a short breath as Maria lifts her palms to rest on the blonde’s hips, dipping her head slightly so they’re eye-to-eye.

It’s leaps and bounds of difference, slow dancing with Carol Danvers in their bedroom, from the secretly pining nights spent dancing the night away to 80s rock and throwing back shots. If she could do it all over again, the only change Maria would make would be to cross the distance between them sooner, to have spent more time being deeply in love with her best friend before she was ripped away… But Carol’s here  _ now, _ and Maria is going to take advantage of every moment they have left. 

_ “...my dream maker, heartbreaker, wherever you're going, I'm going the same…” _

“What’s on your mind, Danvers?” prods the mechanic as they sway together, spinning slightly and keeping their hips close. Even though this is, in sum, quite a strange turn for the evening, she can’t deny that she’s enjoying herself, her chest filling with effusive warmth as she looks into dazzling brown eyes. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s…” Carol’s cheeks puff out with the force of her sigh. “It’s Denmark.”

“Den… mark?” Maria narrows her eyes. “Lovely place, I hear. Kinda Nordic for my tastes, but—“

The blonde lets out an adorably frustrated growl and shushes her with a kiss. Maria has no complaints, except that Carol pulls away after just a couple seconds to continue, “Denmark… is the only country right now, where we can get… married.”

“Oh—ohhhh. You want to—“ A few more stammering variations on that slip out before Maria’s jaw clicks shut, because Carol drops to a knee in one smooth movement that makes the mechanic’s heart leap into her throat. 

_ “...two drifters, off to see the world. It's such a crazy world, you'll see. We’re all chasin' after our end…”  _

“I know it’s not recognized here, and we’ve never talked about it, but… It wasn’t even an option when I… when I left.” Carol swallows thickly, and she produces what looks like a robotic jewelry box from her suit, and it accordions open with tiny beeping noises to reveal a glittering ring: “I love you Maria Rambeau, and with you, I will take  _ everything  _ I can get. Marry me?”

Absurdly, the first thought that pops into Maria’s head is:  _ I’m wearing a jumpsuit right now.  _ But then she blinks, another thought yells that that seems appropriate, and finally she sees a flicker of panic in her partner’s expression. She sets her feet and looks her in the eyes as she answers, “Carol Danvers, yes, I’ll marry you in Denmark. I’d marry you on the moon. I’d marry you on every planet in the universe, just because I want to.”

A strangled, delighted noise is the only warning she has before Carol surges back to her feet, hands gripping Maria’s face as she hauls her in for a kiss. The mechanic’s own arms instantly wrap around the blonde’s waist, pulling their bodies tightly together as the suit disappears, leaving Carol in just her sleep shirt and shorts. 

There’s a small, faraway part of Maria that offers weak questions about scheduling, invitations, and seating charts—but all that fades when she feels Carol slide the ring on her finger, distractedly impressed that it’s a perfect fit. She takes enough time looking at it to register a thin gold band with rectangular diamond setting, but it could be a piece of folded aluminum foil for all Maria Rambeau cares. Her bones are rattling with urgency to express the emotions overflowing her ribcage, but there aren’t words sufficient, at least not in English—so she captures Carol’s lips again, pressing her tongue into her mouth, and uses the leverage of her height to tip the blonde towards their bed.

“I love you, I love you. I love you,” Carol’s muttering as Maria’s lips drop to her neck, seemingly almost unaware of her own words, but she has enough wherewithal to catch the mechanic off-guard before they reach the bed, flipping them so Maria’s back hits the mattress, with her superhero’s broad hands pinning her in place.

And here’s where Carol Danvers, the strongest person in the universe, loves to slow down. It’s simultaneously maddening and endearing beyond belief, the combined effect leaving Maria completely still on the bed, waiting. Her  _ wife-to-be _ straightens up, looking again like her confident, sure self—but her eyes and hands are flickering with wisps of fire, giving away just how worked up she actually is. 

Slowly,  _ painstakingly _ slowly, Carol crawls onto the mattress until she’s straddling Maria’s hips, and her glowing hands get to work unbuttoning the mechanic’s jumpsuit, one by agonizing one, while the blonde’s light brown eyes drift back and forth, across her body with open, reverential appreciation. The brush of heated fingertips against her chest makes Maria’s skin tingle and muscles jump, a grinding pressure building between her legs every time she hears the gossamer soft sound of a button coming free. She lets her own gaze drift along defined collarbones, nipples hardened under Carol’s shirt—and a damp spot in the crotch of her thin shorts that makes Maria groan, low in her throat. 

Carol’s eyes widen as she slides the jumpsuit off Maria’s shoulders, and the mechanic lifts her hips to help the blonde pull them farther down and off her legs, leaving her still in a shirt and jeans, but the superhero is still in no hurry. She’s like a drifting spacewalker, arms moving fluidly, but in slow motion. Warm palms glide up Maria’s belly as Carol pushes her shirt up, patiently waiting for her to lift her arms to tug it completely off. The bra comes next, the blonde deftly undoing each clasp as she leans close enough that her minty breath skates along Maria’s cheek. When she tosses that aside, Carol sits up again, lips parted and eyes darkening as she takes in the view like Maria's Earth, and Carol’s the first astronaut to see Her from the moon.

That amber gaze is so intense that Maria’s eyes want to screw shut, her arms want to move to cover herself, but Carol splays her fingers across her chest and murmurs just one word, “Beautiful.”

Like a switch, the tone makes Maria’s anxiety melt, and she gasps when pale fingers trace featherlight circles first around her right nipple, then the left before trailing down her stomach. Her body’s rebelling, tense, instincts shouting at her to grab that hand and move it to exactly where she needs it, or growl at her superpowered partner to just burn the rest of her clothes away… but Carol’s breathing is ragged and quick, the tips of her cheeks reddening, and Maria finds the trust and patience to wait. Carol always makes it worth her while.

She holds onto that thought even when the blonde undoes the button of her jeans like it’s brain surgery, each movement of her fingers deliberate and controlled. The zipper, at least, Carol slides down without hesitation, and then fingers hook into her pants and underwear to drag them both off. Maria’s already so wet that she feels sticky warmth smear down her legs from her panties, and her pulse thuds faster to see the damp spot between Carol’s legs has spread. 

“I love that I get to do this,” whispers the blonde like it’s an invocation, breathless and pleading, somehow. After pulling the taller woman to the edge of the bed, remaining standing between her legs, Carol brushes her fingers from Maria’s lower belly through the thick black curls below, and then groans when she meets copious wetness. 

Maria answers with one of her own when two fingers spread her open, and she props herself on an elbow to better watch Carol’s face. Her eyes are glowing with fire again, the tips of her short hair lifting slightly as she stares into Maria’s most intimate places, using her other hand to trace lightly just along the edges of her labia, close enough that her clit gives a heavy throb in anticipation. 

“So warm… so wet for me…” 

The gravelly tone has Maria’s skin singing, and she’s sure Carol can  _ see  _ her body’s responding gush of wetness and her pulse pounding away in her core. She throws in the towel. “Baby…”

“Hmm? Need something?”

After briefly considering kneeing the superhero for that drippingly cocky response, Maria decides she’s too far gone to fight it: “Baby,  _ please. _ I need you. I need—“

The last breaks off into a startled gasp when Carol slides two fingers into her in a single long, slow stroke, burying them to the knuckles and giving a testing push that drives the remaining breath from Maria’s lungs and forces her eyes shut. She’s dripping wet and more than ready, but the abruptness of the intrusion still has Maria’s body clenching and shuddering. 

“Like this?” 

Even though Carol’s still teasing, Maria can pick up the strain in her voice, and she shoots back, “Stop talking, Danvers.”

The words are high and breathy, but she doesn’t care, because then those superheated fingers start to move at a steady pace and are quickly joined by a third, but Carol leaves her clit infuriatingly neglected. Before long, and after waiting so long already, Maria reaches down to take care of that problem herself, but the blonde bats her hand away with her free one, then catches her wrist and presses it firmly into her belly. The  _ strength _ holding her down, an immovable vice digging into her skin, ratchets up the pressure at the base of Maria’s spine, and she almost hurtles over the edge when Carol growls, “No. This is mine.” 

But she doesn’t quite get there, her body coiling with a near-unbearable ache, and Carol  _ knows, _ offering a feline grin as she thrusts into Maria with even, deep strokes, ones that eke out bubbles of pleasure with each drag along her inner walls, but she needs  _ more. _ The bed’s creaking quietly, the air filled with obscene, slick sounds, and Maria’s brain is short circuiting. 

_ “Please, _ baby,” she chokes out, eyes screwed shut, unsure what she even wants to say. “Pleasepleaseplease, it’s so good. I love you. I love you, I’m yours,  _ please—“ _

She nearly shouts when a hot, wet mouth closes around her clit, and her eyes fly open again. Carol’s hand is keeping her firmly flat on the bed, even as her hips try to churn upward, and Maria can only dig her fingers into the sheets, going limp and trying to muffle her gasps as the blonde’s other hand launches into a pounding rhythm, fingertips pressing into her deepest places and filling her to the brim. 

Carol curls her fingers into Maria’s g-spot on the next pass, and her hot tongue’s massaging her clit, and Maria gives in to the tension in her belly, like letting a swift current drag her away. She feels briefly weightless, and then slams back into her body as relief bursts out from her belly, spine tensing and releasing under a wave of cold fire, quickly soothed by delirious satisfaction. 

Maria rips up her free hand to muffle her desperate, relieved moans as she comes. Her muscles grip and ripple around slowing thrusts while she whimpers into her skin, shuddering and trembling down to her toes. When those strong fingers let go of her wrist, she relaxes into the fading aftershocks, which are drawn out even longer by the sensation of Carol slowly withdrawing, letting her feel every knuckle slide out of her. 

The blonde climbs back onto the bed, collapsing on top of her, and Maria wraps her arms around those muscular shoulders like reflex, crushing their chests together. She can feel her heart thudding against her sternum and the answering, powerful beat in Carol’s, alien though it may be these days.

_ My wife.  _ The thought sounds foreign in her mind, but she’s sure she’ll be able to get used to it. Marriage, for them, had never even been an option before, and she never expected that it would be, but more importantly, she always knew it wouldn’t make an ounce of difference in her love for Carol Danvers.

But now, with the new millennium breathing down their necks, the world was changing at Captain Marvel speed, and she was more than happy to be along for the ride into a brave future. With her  _ wife _ by her side. 

“I can hear you thinking,” murmurs said not-yet-wife, lifting her head. She’s got a lazy, self-satisfied smile on her face, but Maria can feel the wet spot from Carol’s shorts smearing onto her thigh. 

“Just about how I love you what is quite honestly a stupid amount.” Maria offers a smile, brushing blonde hair from amber eyes. “Do I get to make ‘annoying wife’ jokes with the old guys down at the shop now?”

Carol chuckles, her eyes and nose wrinkling. “I’m only annoying  _ sometimes.” _

“It pays off.” Maria tightens her grip around the blonde and rolls them, smiling when her  _ fiancé _ laughs. That tapers off when she ducks her head and nips at Carol’s neck, one hand wandering under the waistband of her shorts as she explains, “First important concept for marriage: fairness.” 

**Author's Note:**

> They may have been listening to Audrey's version of Moon River, but I listened to [Frank Ocean's version](https://open.spotify.com/album/0iqqnLXoocsMeCYlTw3Q2q) the entire time I wrote this.
> 
> yell at me on tumblr [@trashyeggroll](https://trashyeggroll.tumblr.com/)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] Two Drifters](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20022757) by [trashyeggroll](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashyeggroll/pseuds/trashyeggroll)




End file.
